


hot and bothered

by butthulu, hummingbirdbandit



Series: Roleplay Collection [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Chucklevoodoos, Dominance, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Semi-Public Sex, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28746396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butthulu/pseuds/butthulu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingbirdbandit/pseuds/hummingbirdbandit
Summary: Horuss walks in on Kurloz relieving himself on his throne.(RP log.  Unedited.)
Relationships: Darkleer/Grand Highblood (Homestuck), Kurloz Makara/Horuss Zahhak
Series: Roleplay Collection [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1387408
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	hot and bothered

Kurloz upends the nearest table with a snarl, his tail thrashing behind him hard enough to make the air whistle. Fucking Meenah, getting him riled up like that before just fucking leaving! The bitch still won't put up- uh, out- but she's perfectly happy to tease and toy with him until he's this close to just pinning her down and showing her exactly who has the power in this relationship. Motherfucker won't be condescending to him once she sees he's just as good as her, if not better.

Fuck, now he's even more wound up. But nobody's around; it's the middle of the day, so everyone should be asleep. Nobody but Kurloz and his bulge to keep him company. And all of his toys are in his respiteblock. Hmph. Maybe....

Kurloz pulls a clean pair of clubs out of his sylladex. These'll do nicely. He wraps his bulge around one of them, kneeling on the floor of the meetingblock so he can get his fingers nice and slick and shove the first two up his ass. He keeps his index and middle finger claws short on his left hand just for occasions like these- there's no doubting that Kurloz can take care of himself without his claws, not when he's the Grand Motherfuckin' Highblood. He moans, rubbing his fingertips back and forth over his globes, through the wall between his wastechute and nook. Fuckin'.... perfect. Kurloz gets himself nice and loose, before starting to push the lubricated club into his wastechute. It's thicker than he remembers it being, since it's been a while since he's done this, but he keeps pushing, letting out the softest and most undignified whimper as it stretches him open. Fuck yes. It's not as good as a bulge, but his bulge can't reach back that far, not enough to satisfy. The angle gives him cramps if he tries.

When he's got the first club safely situated in his wastechute, the end cap keeping it from being swallowed completely, he gets the other one and pushes it into his nook. It's quite the tight fit, because of the first club, and it hurts, to have them pushing up against each other and squeezing him between them, but it's a good kind of hurt. He fucks his nook on the second club, moving it with his hands instead of riding it, and doesn't pay attention to the noises he's making, except to make sure that he doesn't wake up the whole ship.

-

Horuss is on patrol. No one told him to be, but he knows that someone needs to be cleaning up any bodies that She may have left during her visit, and it may as well be him. Anything to ensure the Grand Highblood doesn't come across them and get angry. He's scary when he's angry.

It's... exhilarating.

As he makes his way down the halls, taking note of things that need to be repaired or cleaned before the Highblood wakes, he catches some strange noises, coming from the throne block. It sounds almost like someone is injured, gasping in pain. Concerned, he eases the door open, and stops dead in the doorway, eyes wide. It's... the Highblood. Pailing himself. With his ass to the door. Horuss draws in a breath and the door slams shut behind him, announcing his presence loudly. He "eep!"s quietly, trembling in his boots, and starts to struggle with the door. He needs to  _ leave. _

Kurloz doesn't hear the door open, but he sure as hell hears it close. He lets out a honk, jumping in his spot on the floor, and turns his head to see who it is. He's  _ not _ hoping it's Meenah, that would be disastrous.

Luckily, it's not Meenah. It's that one new recruit, uh.... Zahhak, maybe? Fuck, he's hot. Kurloz has eyed him up before, and liked what he'd seen, but he's even more gorgeous, with his face all flushed, and when Kurloz looks down, he sees the wiggly in his pants. He smirks.

"Recruit," he snaps, his smile widening. "Get over here and fuck me."

He gets up off the floor and leans on the throne, his tail rising to reveal the club in his wastechute. Kurloz pulls the other club from his nook roughly and tosses it aside, leaving his nook gaping and flushed. " _ Now. _ "

Horuss's pusher chokes him. "H-highblood?" he stutters, certain he's misunderstood. There's no possible way that he- that the Highblood- He feels faint.

Ugh, he must be slow on the uptake or something. "Zahhak," he growls, "Motherfucking get over here and motherfucking FUCK ME before I pin you down and fuck you myself!"

Horuss leaps into action, trembling hands unzipping his jumpsuit as he crosses the room. "M-my apologies, Highblood," he gasps, wrapping his hand around his own bulge and easing it out of his pants. He's never blushed so hard in his life. The tip of his bulge presses against The Highblood's nook desperately, surging in without his input, and despite his lack of experience. He gasps, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle a moan.

Kurloz doesn't bother muffling himself. He moans loudly, his bulge practically tying itself in knots. Zahhak is thicker than the juggling club, filling him in just the right way, and unlike the club, it can go past his seedflap. "Deeper," he growls, his own face flushed purple under his smeared makeup. " _ Fuck, _ you're motherfuckin' huge, shit!"

Something primal and pleased crawls its way down Horuss's spine at that. The Highblood likes the way he feels? Maybe he  _ is _ good for something other than machinery and medicine. Emboldened, he reaches down and grips the Highblood's  luscious hips as leverage, pulling back and starting to thrust gently, his bulge stretching out to its full length.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," mutters Kurloz, his claws digging into his throne. When Zahhak's bulge stretches out, it wiggles under his seedflap and into his genebladder, and  _ fuck, _ it's been  _ so long _ since anything but his own bulge has been that deep in him. He  _ whines, _ throwing his head back. Zahhak's grip is going to bruise, he can feel it, and it surprises him. Most blues aren't  _ that _ strong.  _ Harder, _ he insists in Zahhak's head- his mouth is busy panting and groaning.

Horuss gasps in surprise at the mental invasion. It's shockingly intimate, and it makes Horuss's pusher ache. He never thought he'd be here, in this position, with the  _ Highblood. _ It's too good to be true, and he has to remind himself not to think too hard about it. It's not him the Highblood wants. He's just a convenient stand-in. Horuss will take what he can get.

He's sure as Flicka gonna enjoy it, though.

Horuss pulls back, flexing his grip, and slams his hips forward.

Kurloz cries out, slurry gushing briefly from his bulge. He doesn't pail, not quite yet, but Horuss's bulge hit his globes, and it made him tense all over. " _ Horuss, _ " he moans, pulling the name from Horuss's head.  _ Pail. Inside. FUCK. _

_ Can't fuckin' talk, motherfuck, your bulge is so fuckin' good! _

Horuss shivers all over at the sound of his own name echoing through his head. He lets out an unwitting growl and drags the Highblood down his throne by the leg, manhandling him into a position that allows him to move even deeper. Tossing the Highblood's leg over his shoulder, Horuss grips it tight and starts thrusting twice as hard as he was before. It's clear now that he hadn't been trying his hardest.

His earlier cry is nothing to the gutteral roar that rips out of him. Kurloz's eyes roll back, and his thighs twitch in Horuss's grip, his muscles turning into jelly. A constant stream of moans drips from his vocal cords, and he scrunches his face up, holding his throne so tight the wood cracks.  _ Horuss, _ he whimpers mentally. He thinks he might have found someone stronger than him, and it's a rush of adrenaline straight to the bulge.

Horuss is on a damn mission. His hips piston against the Highblood's and his bulge grinds against his globes. "Say my name," he growls, surprisingly bold. His pan appears to have stopped working, if he's giving the Highblood orders, but here he is.

Horuss's pan isn't the only one that's stopped working, because Kurloz pretty much just rolls over and submits. "Horuss," he moans, "Horuss  _ please, _ mother _ fuck! _ " He's so close, so close to pailing, he just needs- he needs Horuss to touch his bulge! He grabs Horuss's hand and tries to put it on his bulge, wordlessly begging him.

Horuss pins the Highblood's hand backward, lacing their fingers together. He's not ready for this to be over yet, so he's not about to finish it. His grip on the Highblood's leg is tight, bruising, and his bulge slides in and out of the Highblood's genebladder. "Please what?"

Tears of pleasure well up in his eyes, and he begs, " _ Please _ , please touch me, Horuss!" He can't use his other hand to touch himself, because otherwise he'll fall on his face and his cheek will smush against the throne and it'll be  _ highly _ embarrassing, and just the thought makes his nook clench. "So close," he whines.

Horuss doesn't have a bone in his body that would say no to that request. He releases the Highblood's hand and grips the base of his bulge instead. His grip is much gentler, and his hands are lightly calloused from his work. Horuss teeters on the edge, tugging on the Highblood's bulge, and finally pails with a sharp intake of breath that turns into a moan.

Kurloz pails hot on his tails, his toes curling and his head lolling back. His whole body trembles as he pails harder than he has in  _ sweeps, _ his nook tightening so much it almost hurts Horuss's bulge. Horuss's slurry makes his stomach round, and he puts his hand to it, letting out a rumbling purr. A dopey smile spreads over his face.

Horuss pants, feeling dizzy and fulfilled. He sighs, leaning his head against the Highblood's knee to get his breath back.

Against.

Against the  _ Highblood's _ knee.

Horuss yelps and sits upright, staring at the absolute mess between his legs. "I-I'm so sorry, Highblood, I didn't- I should not have-"

Ugh, he's such a worrier. Kurloz rolls his eyes. "I told you to." He sits up, though, and crawls forward, his bulge still waving in the air. He could go another round. "But.... if you're so dead set on earning my forgiveness, I'll let you." He licks his lips. "Got a pretty nook there, Zahhak. Mind if I play with it?"

Horuss's eyes widen even farther. "I- um- i-if you'd like, Highblood." What, does he expect Horuss to say  _ no? _

Uh, yes, actually, if he wants to say no. "Zahhak," he says, pulling back a bit. "If you don't want me to, I won't."

Horuss shakes his head. "No! No, I do, I really do." Fuck, he doesn't want to stop now!

He rumbles, uncertain, but then he skims the surface of Horuss's mind, and grins. "Damn, alright then. Great." His bulge finally unknots itself, and slides into Horuss's nook, easy as breathing. He's even bigger than Horuss is, but Kurloz takes it slow so he doesn't hurt him.

Horuss chitters loud and shrill, his legs falling open obediently and his head falling to the side to expose his neck. It's complete submission. Horuss pants, too nervous to look the Highblood in the eye, in fear that he'll break the magic.

Of course, he can feel that. But he doesn't take advantage of the exposure, except to kiss Horuss's neck all up and down the column of it. Kurloz thrusts gently, pushing more of his bulge into Horuss, and when his bulge lifts up the edge of his seedflap, it's careful, not rough at all. He doesn't want to hurt Horuss; he might have come into this just because Kurloz ordered him to, but he's the first troll to  _ trust _ him in any capacity, and.... he doesn't want to betray that.

Horuss makes a wounded noise when the Highblood slips under his seedflap. He's never felt anything like it, and it's incredible and overwhelming and he shakes with the effort of not crushing the Highblood's bulge on accident.

Oh, fuck, he's  _ tight. _ Kurloz growls, just barely restraining himself from surging the rest of the way into Horuss's genebladder. He takes it nice and slow, and once he's fully seated, his bulge starts to undulate inside of him, rubbing up against Horuss's globes.

Horuss whines and pants, forcibly restraining himself from latching onto the Highblood. He doesn't want his freakish, mutant strength to ruin something so beautiful. Instead, his fingers dig into the ground beneath him, sinking into the stone as easily as digging into soft earth. "Holy haunches," he breathes, eyes wide.

That gets a giggle out of Kurloz before he can stop himself. He sees the way Horuss's fingers carve the stone like clay, and lets out a much louder laugh. "Motherfuckin' Messiahs gave me the gift of a brother who got strength like no other," he mutters, pushing his face back into Horuss's neck to suck a hickey into his skin. "Messiahs, you're  _ beautiful. _ Such a good boy." He knows Horuss will like that, instinctually, his mind seeping into the cracks in Horuss's without his own conscious say-so. Been a long time since he's needed keeping his pan hands to his motherfuckin' self.

Horuss's pan turns to mush at that statement. The Highblood calling him beautiful is an abject falsehood, but he isn't about to argue, he's a  _ good boy. _ His eyes fall shut as the Highblood claims his neck like he's claimed his nook, and Horuss has never felt so complete. "Thank you, sir," he breathes out.

No, no, not a falsehood,  _ definitely _ the truth, at least through Kurloz's eyes. He's very insistent about that, and Horuss feels Kurloz asking permission for... something. His bulge is practically on automatic at this point, moving on its own inside Horuss without much input from Kurloz.

Horuss doesn't really have the presence of mind to deny the Highblood anything, so the request is strange. "What is it?" he pants, his entire body thrumming, every nerve alight.

_ Gotta show you. _ Kurloz shows him. He shows Horuss how he looks, spread out under him, blue and breathless.  _ Heard you thinkin' untrue thoughts about your sweet motherfuckin' self. Gotta show you how you look to me. _

Even his closed eyes won't let him escape from that image. Horuss lets out a whimper, embarrassed and overwhelmed that the Highblood thinks so much of him. "I- I am a typical member of my caste," he squeaks out. "There is nothing in me that you cannot find in any other indigo."

"No," he says gravely, shaking his head. "No typical indigo could hurt me, let alone by accident. No typical indigo could claw marble like it's dirt. You ain't no type of ordinary that I've ever seen." He nips at Horuss's ear playfully. "Motherfucker, you're extraordinary." He wraps his hand around Horuss's bulge, stroking and squeezing it. He's close, but he wants Horuss to go first.

Horuss gasps raggedly and tosses his head back. It cracks the floor. "Fiddlesticks!" It only takes a couple of strokes before Horuss is shaking apart in the Highblood's hands, hips jittering and nook clamping down so hard that it hurts. He gasps an apology but can't make himself relax until his orgasm has subsided, slurry gushing out of his nook and his bulge drenching the Highblood's hand.

Kurloz hisses a breath in through his teeth, pailing inside Horuss and letting out a low moan. He lets Horuss's pan go, and slowly pulls out of him. "Care to use my respiteblock instead of the motherfucking communals?"

The room feels too warm. Horuss places a hand on his stomach, feeling where he's retained the Highblood's slurry inside of him. Nothing has ever felt more right, and that terrifies him. Tears leap to his eyes blurring his vision as he blinks them back and gapes at the Highblood. "I- I don't understand."

"Ain't gonna make a brother do the walk of shame for no reason," Kurloz says, like it's the most logical thing. "Do you want to up and clean off in my private ablution block?"

"I..." Horuss looks down at himself, covered in slurry and completely debauched, and swallows. "I'd be honored," he says. Something tells him he can't hide anything from the Highblood. He isn't one for fruitless exercises.

Kurloz smiles and scoops him up. He makes it so that nobody will notice them, and ferries Horuss to his respiteblock, humming a cheery tune the whole way.

When they get there, he deposits Horuss in the ablution trap and starts to run the water. "Don't want to assume... does a brother know how to release the slurry?"

Being carried is shocking and intimate, and it takes Horuss a second to come down and answer the question. "From a clinical standpoint, yes. But I am unsure how to manage, with, um. My claws."

"I've gotchu, if you don't mind," he offers. He shows Horuss his blunted claws. "Ain't gonna hurt you if I stick my fingers up there." Speaking of things "up there", now that they're done, the club up his waatechute is kind of uncomfortable. Kurloz captchas it straight out of there so he doesn't have to bother with pulling it out.

"I don't mind," Horuss responds immediately. He looks confused, and nervous.

Kurloz slides into the trap behind Horuss and slips two fingers into his still-loose nook. He doesn't linger longer than he needs to, just pressing the spot that makes Horuss's seedflap relax and release the good gallon of slurry in his genebladder. Then he pulls his fingers out and reaches around Horuss to turn the water on, washing the slurry down the drain and filling the tub with pleasantly warm water.

"You are under no obligation to assist me in bathing," Horuss says quietly, hoping he doesn't offend. "I don't wish to waste your time."

Kurloz scoffs, grabbing the soap and a.... A purple loofa. The Grand Highblood owns a loofa.

"Ain't obligated to fuck my subordinates either," he says. "I don't do shit because I'm motherfuckin' obligated, brother, I do shit because I want to."

"Oh," Horuss breathes. He forces himself to relax (to a level that is still very tense) and lets the Highblood pamper him.

"I don't even know your name," he realizes aloud after a moment. "Not that I would presume to have earned that knowledge. I simply never thought I would have... engaged in concupiscent activities with a troll before even the simplest of pleasantries. Especially not one such as you."

Oh, shit, he really didn't introduce himself? He's so forgetful sometimes. He blames the amount of soppr he shoveled into his dumb ass squawk gaper as a preteen. "Kurloz," he says quietly. "Sorry, brother, it just slipped my mind. Didn't mean to. Got caught up in the motherfuckin' moment and just.... Forgot."

"Kurloz," Horuss breathes, savoring the feel of it on his tongue. "Thank you." It's a gift he intends to cherish. "I will make sure to keep it to myself in our future interactions."

"Good- my name is a privilege, brother, and don't you forget it." His tone is fond, instead of admonishing. "It's getting close to morning. Wouldn't mind if you stayed the day."

"Excuse me?" Horuss squeaks. He's joking, right? He has to be. It's the only thing that makes sense.

"I said, I wouldn't mind if you stayed the day. Ain't an order, but it'd be nice."

"But... why?"

Ugh. Kurloz sighs. "Because I'd like the company, is why."

"My company? But sir, you are..."  _ Far, far better than the company of a lowly indigo. _ Horuss sighs. "If you'd wish, sir. I would enjoy the company as well."

"Color don't matter," Kurloz says, waving his hand dismissively. "I've hung 'round rusties and had a good time. You're only a step below me, anyways; we're nearly the same. So relax."

Horuss does, at least a bit. His pusher racing, he lets himself lean against Kurloz ( _ Kurloz, _ his name is Kurloz, the Grand Highblood told him his  _ name _ ). "Do you, um. Often pail yourself on your throne? If I may be so bold."

His face scrunches up. "No, not often," he replies. "Sometimes. Meenah got me all riled up and I didn't want to bother work going back to my block."

"Meenah?" Horuss asks.

He hums, hesitating. "My.... direct superior. We have a bit of a pitch thing going on, but she hardly sees me as her equal, which is frustrating, because she doesn't see anything wrong with toying with me despite that."

Direct... Supervisor?  **_The Empress?!_ ** "Oh dear," Horuss whispers. "Well that's... unfortunate."

"Indeed." He feels a little awkward, now that that's come to light and they're both clean. "Let's get out and into the 'coon, yes?" Anything to escape the embarrassment.

Horuss hesitates. "I am... rather enjoying the warmth," he admits. "May we stay just a moment longer?" He rests a shaky hand on Kurloz's knee. He's pushing his luck here, and he knows it, but he hopes that his impudence isn't punished.

Purple dusts Kurloz's face, and he nods. "Alright." He lets the tension and awkwardness fade, relaxing into the bath. Eventually he asks, "What do you do when you're not on duty? Other than my fine self."

Blue rushes across Horuss's face. "I am an engineer," he explains. "And I am the new attendant to the Grand Highblood. I work to ensure your demands are met, and that the judiciary block runs smoothly. They didn't find it necessary for us to meet, and I had accepted that. It is not necessary for me to do my job to the best of my ability. I was happy to simply be of use."

"That's hoofbeastshit," he declares, patting Horuss's thigh. "You're more than just a tool, brother. I didn't even know I had a new attendant. Good thing you wandered in when you did, yeah?" He nibbles the shell of Horuss's ear teasingly. "What do you need, Horuss, to do your job to the best of your ability? Tell me, and you'll have it."

"I-" Horuss thinks. "It would make it much easier were I to receive my orders from you directly, and not through the grapevine of... ingrates. But I'm sure you have much more important things to do than entertain my audience."

Kurloz snorts, "I really don't. I'd much rather listen to you than any other motherfucker on this ship."

Horuss swallows. "Sir, I feel as though I should inform you that I am harboring some rather unprofessional feelings, regarding... yourself. And I feel it may be best that I be reassigned."

Hmmm. "Why's that? If you've got feelings of the unprofessional sort, I don't see why it wouldn't help you assist me. Seems to be a good motivator."

"Really? I- Thank you, sir. For the chance to serve despite my... degeneracy." He swallows. "And if I am feeding my degeneracy, may I make a request, sir?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Well, I am to be your assistant. It is my job to serve. So when next you find yourself... needing attending to, I would be honored to assist."

Kurloz grins. "I'll keep that in mind. Should I contact you via a message, or directly in your pan?"

"Whichever is more pleasing to you, sir," Horuss says, happier than he can ever remember being. "Thank you, Kurloz."

"You're welcome, Horuss." Kurloz kisses his neck, just below his ear.

They rest gently in the water until it grows cold, and Horuss follows Kurloz to his respiteblock, feeling incredibly naked without the water hiding his body. "I truly am happy to return to my block if you'd prefer. You've entertained me longer than necessary, and I am grateful."

He huffs and rolls his eyes. "Horuss, if I wanted you gone, you'd be gone. Hush up and get in the 'coon with me." Kurloz lowers himself into his recuperacoon, already fighting against drowsiness.

Horuss follows, unable to find a coherent argument to that. He slots himself under Kurloz's arm, right where he belongs, and rests his head on his chest. A brief nagging in his mind, and he unties his hair for bed, letting it fall like a curtain along Kurloz's shoulder.

Kurloz feels the nagging, and he asks, "What's the matter?" He combs his fingers through Horuss's hair, feeling how silky it is. He's gotta find out what product Horuss uses.

"It's nothing. I don't often allow others to see me undone." He gestures at his hair. "It's unprofessional."

"Always so concerned about being professional," he grumbles softly. "Well, I like your hair down like this. 'S a motherfuckin' bonafide miracle, hair this soft." He'd let Horuss wash his hair at some point, but Kurloz doesn't trust him so much  _ yet. _

Horuss flushes. "I'm glad you like it. If it isn't a violation of dress code, I am... happy to wear it down. If you would prefer."

Kurloz scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Don't recall hairstyles bein' part of dress code," he says. "If'n it is, then I'll make an exception." He sighs and closes his eyes. "Tired," he mumbles. "Sleep, Zahhak."

That's an order Horuss has no problem following. His eyes slip shut and he settles comfortably into sleep, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> 8/03/19-8/14/19


End file.
